December 9, 1980 [ABANDONED]

Chapter 8

Ring ring. Ring ring.

Paul's head whipped in the direction of the living room, where he had last seen John. His friend met his gaze for a moment before hurrying off in a worried manner. That had to be the FBI calling. Paul decided he should probably go monitor the tipsy guests in the living room to make sure nobody interfered.

Only a few people in the apartment had even noticed the phone, but they all ignored it. Most of the guests were happily chatting with their colleagues and slowly getting drunk. The ringing had stopped now, and Paul's heart dropped. He wondered what the authorities would say; they had to give Yoko a chance, they just had to. Maybe John would go in and testify for her, or they would decide the other guy was guilty. What was his name again? Something Chapman, that was all Paul could remember. That snake doesn't even deserve to be remembered, Paul thought before going off into a mental cursing fit.

His stony expression and rather violent train of thought was disrupted when David Bowie slung an arm over his shoulder. The art rocker's flock of seagulls hairstyle dipped almost to his eyes, and his unique, oddly dilated eyes pierced into Paul's. "Great party you have here for John, man. Though, can I ask where the guest of honor has run off to? He's the one that should be celebrating, and I haven't seen him at all today but for five minutes."

"He hasn't felt rather talkative today," Paul mumbled. "I think that's the FBI that just called. Today is supposed to be the end of the investigation, and the poor guy just couldn't get his mind off it. He's so worried for Yoko."

David gave an understanding nod, then leaned in close, talking in a hushed voice. "Don't tell John, but I've heard some talk going around the party today... Is he absolutely sure Yoko isn't guilty? Now, this isn't my personal opinion on the matter, but a few people have pointed out that it is within the realm of possibilities..."

Paul shook his head, a bit of anger building up inside. "Absolutely not. There's no way Yoko would pay to have John offed. She loved him."

Bowie shrugged, taking a swig of his alcoholic beverage. "Like I said, it's not my opinion. I argued with a few people over it. But some of the guys here feel the need to chatter like schoolgirls. I just wanted to warn you."

"Well, tell those stupid sods to keep it to themselves," Paul growled slightly. "At least while they're under John's roof. It's downright disrespectful."

Giving Paul a nod and a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, he strutted off to socialize with Bob Dylan, who was silently drinking in a corner.

Paul couldn't believe that they were gossiping about Yoko's innocence, or lack thereof, in John's own home. He was glad at least David kept a level head about the situation, and tried to do the same himself. Oh, he was going to knock some heads when this party was over if John had heard any of that gossip.

Paul's anger began to slowly build again, but was interrupted by a knock sounding on the door to the apartment, barely audible over the chatter of the party. He turned and began to head that way when he saw a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Mick Jagger, who had been debating for a good ten minutes with Robert Plant about which frontman had shagged more groupies, was now drunkenly sauntering toward the phone in the living room.

"Just you wait, Robert," Jagger hiccuped. "I'm going to call my manager, he has actual numbers. Well, approximates... Of course he keeps track of that! Might be useful information some day! Could be in my biography..."

Paul sighed with disbelief as he rushed to stop the inebriated Jagger from picking up the phone. The Rolling Stone looked shocked as Paul swatted his hand away from the receiver.

"Sorry mate, can't have you using the phone just yet," Paul explained. "John's on the line."

Paul could see the lightbulb in his head flashing dimly, trying desperately to process what the Beatle had just said. Jagger's eyes strained as he tried to think, and then finally relaxed. "Alright." He sulked back to his little group, mumbling about having those numbers sent to Plant later. Paul didn't believe for one second that the Stones manager kept track of Jagger's groupies, and couldn't help laughing at the tipsy frontman.